Monday, May 27, 2013

Albert at 19

He sleeps now, on the porch, all day.  Sometimes we go out at dark and forcibly carry him inside for the night.  Now and then he forgets to eat,  so I bring him his food outside,  and yes he's hungry,  he'll stand up to eat, then goes back to sleep.

He's still the first one out in the morning and the last one in at dark.  During the nasty cold weather this past week he would spend 12 hours on the porch, by choice, huddled here out of the wind.  I brought him in once but he just turned on his heel and went back out through the cat door.  My porch. I'll stay there, thankyouverymuch.


He's profoundly deaf, if you want his attention you need to touch him.  He still gets up on the bed before dawn and puts his icy cold paws on my husband's face.  I know he's there when I hear the scream.  He gets confused, now, sometimes puzzled about whatever he's seeing.  Is this out?  Oh, well, it looks very nice, I think I'll go there.  Maybe not. Well,  maybe later. I think I'll have a nap now.
Nineteen years.  What a long trip it's been. 

6 comments:

  1. SOUNDS A LOT LIKE MY LIFE.

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  2. hi, harvey. =) And mine too, only no one ever brings me breakfast on the porch.

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  3. 19 years. That's a long, long life for a cat. My Elmo was 18 when I finally had to make the decision last July. I miss that old coot so much. He was singular.

    But then I guess every cat is singular.

    Albert. What a great damn name.

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  4. Yep when they live that long sometimes just the fact of that great age gives then a cachet. I think he's the fourth one i've had that made it to 18 or better. It's hard to let go, isn't it, but then you realize they are so strongly life oriented that they could outlive us and then some, before their sturdy hearts finally gave out.
    It took me two weeks to find the right name--but when you hit the right one, you know. And he's a Bert, not an Al. That he's firm about. *g*

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  5. Because I must respect his great age (as I hope to be respected for my own), and in deferrence to the obvious affection you have for him, I shall refrain from my usual cat comments.

    You're lucky to have each other.

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  6. Smiles at Mr. Lavalette. You are a master of tact, and thank you. Out of deference to you and your less than enthusiastic feelings for cats (and probably dogs, horses, and the stray wildebeest) I do try to keep the roar down. Not everyone sits around watching cats sleep, or eat, and I understand and respect that. Too.

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